Dream Eating Monochrome
by Ladyofthelake13
Summary: France, Prussia, Japan and America have always had weird dreams. What happens when "Arthur" shows up in one of them and claims he can take them away forever? Everything has a price... One-ish shot unless people ask for more. No flames, please.
1. Chapter 1

Dream Eating Monochrome

AN: Hey guys! I know I haven't updated my other story in a while. (Curse writer's block!) Anyway, this was a song suggested under the crossovers for this lovely corner of the universe and Vocaloid. Checked it out and the plot popped up easily and fairly painlessly. Particularly once I thought of getting 2p England involved (my own version that is. Where he does have magic but uses it for twisted purposes.) So, without further ado, let's start this thing up.

"Bruder. For the last time, GO. TO. BED." Gilbert knew his brother was serious. He was wickedly tired. Being so awesome was exhausting work after all. If he was being really honest with himself, though, there was another, far less awesome reason that he hadn't already gone to sleep. He felt bad about keeping West up, but if he hadn't then he'd have had to sleep. And if he slept, it meant he had to dream. This was something even his brother didn't know. He'd had the normal, completely unawesome dreams like everyone else. Lately though… he'd learned to dread his dreams. They were weird, freaky stuff that made him remember things he didn't really want to remember.

"Don't be so unawesome, West." He countered, trying not to seem as scared as he actually was.

"Gilbert, I have the World Conference tomorrow. If you do not let me sleep, I will vake you at the same time I'm getting up." Poor, overworked West, he thought as he looked at his younger brother. It's not your fault the other nations aren't doing anything. Even his tone was exhausted, like he couldn't be bothered to put any energy into his threats.

"You wouldn't."

"…I'm not arguing with you again. Get to bed or I'll knock you out and place you there."

His "room" door slammed shut and he reluctantly got ready for bed. Just before he turned out the light, he wondered what horror he'd dream of tonight.

Unaware of this, just a few miles away, Francis Bonnefoy (better known as France) was also preparing for bed. Despite the distance, the attitude was the same. Very reluctant and slow. There was a dragging of feet and numerous delays. All nations have some type of period where pain far outweighs pleasure. Being one of the older nations, he had several. All of which, unfortunately, had taken to showing up in his beauty rest.

Sighing dramatically when there was nothing else for him to mess around with or fret over and the inevitable had come: He had to actually get in bed and sleep now. Trying to steel himself for anything at all to show up (he didn't know why he bothered, it didn't help any anyway), he turned out the light and waited for sleep to come.

To keep this from getting long and boring, I'll let the reader figure about Kiku and Alfred's rituals or lack thereof. All that was clear was none were particularly excited about sleeping for their dreams. They were not the only ones who noticed either. Elsewhere, in a parallel world if you will, was another version of the man Arthur Kirkland. There are some key differences, however. One, he was rather fond of bright colors that just looked insane together; particularly a certain bubblegum pink shirt and bright blue tie. Secondly, while he had his…abilities there was always some kind of catch thrown in. He made sure it was_ always _in _his_ favor. If some poor sap with a bleeding heart thought it was cruel and cold, he'd show them exactly how it worked.

Usually the problem was solved after one demonstration.

Thirdly, he had a sweet tooth. Why is this important, you're asking? Because if he hadn't had a sweet tooth for others misery, things probably wouldn't have become what they did.

As it was, he found the four dreamers as each was reaching their climax. He laughed a guttural and yet madly high pitched sound. He always did love fools who were desperate enough to gamble. If he had read them right, and he was sure he had, they'd be all too willing to take his gift. That is, to take it and keep calling on him to keep the dreams away, never bothering to think about what he might charge for such a thing.

This, of course, was everything. Everything within. Every hope, every dream, every color of them would be his. Oh, it was a very fun job he had. Now, who to start with… he wondered idly, as he glanced over the dreams before him. A cold, cruel grin came over his face as he selected his first, but most certainly not final, victim of the evening. A test, if you will, as to how far they'd go for relief.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2: The Deal with the demon

AN: Alright, since I actually have time that is not 12:30-ish, here's the next part. Oh, and the bolded part is the dreaming part. Asterisks will mark off the foursomes' thoughts. Also, in case anyone wants to look this up, the song this is pretty closely based off of is named Dream Eating Monochrome Baku by Len Kagamine. If you are me, look up the English dub. Very first video is awesomely dubbed. Just sayin.

**Kiku shuddered as he found himself inside one of his least favorite dreams. All around was the sound of gunfire and bombs exploding. Another World War, only in this one he wasn't on anyone's side. They were fighting on his land. He heard the moans of the dying and the shouted orders of those still lucky enough to be alive.**

**He knew what was coming but felt utterly helpless. There was nothing he could do and yet he desperately wished he could do something to prevent this.**

**Germany and Feli were with him. At that very moment, they rose as one and ran to the middle of the field. Over at the other side, he saw his other friends rise and do the same. England, whom he had shared a peaceful and pleasant tea time with a few weeks ago, now coated in blood and wielding an older musket as he charged forward. Amerika, who could be loud and obnoxious but also good company, came down hard on one of Kiku's own soldiers with a hatred that was otherworldly. Then he too came to the middle, gun and all, bloody from head to toe. **

**This had happened in the mansion, or something like it. He'd hated this ever since. Having to choose, possibly to kill or let die. How he could do that was beyond his imagining.**

**Just as suddenly, everything paused. Just… stopped moving. Another Arthur appeared from the tree line, as casual as anything. As if he wasn't going to be killed by the Axis or the Allies.**

"**Arthur, why are you…?" he trailed off, not sure how he wanted to complete the sentence. Something wasn't right about this person he'd called by his friend's name. They looked the same, but something was very off, as America would say. **

"**For the same reason you are, poppet." He answered calmly, though Japan couldn't remember Arthur calling him poppet before. "Actually, by my reckoning, I'm here to do you a favor." **

"**What kind of favor, Arthur-san?" Now he was just curious. **

"**One where I make all this," he gestured to the field and his friends about to kill one another, "disappear."**

**He was skeptical, but he truly had no desire to continue with this pattern any longer. China and Korea would be kept up by him again and he wouldn't be able to explain why.**

**Taking a breath, he finally answered, "Take it away."**

The other Arthur smiled. He really wasn't that hard to negotiate with, so unlike his own Japan. This was going to be easy and so much fun once the full moons came. Still grinning madly with a crafty look in his eye, he began the spell. To end it properly, he had his spread out hands hovering a centimeter or so from the others now closed eyes. His dream, so delicious and intoxicating, came right up into them as a sort of star shaped cookie.

The fool was probably off in a cherry blossom garden or something. It didn't matter. He had another appointment and the dominoes were falling into place rather nicely.

Here was the next fool he'd get the pleasure of dealing with; he'd have to be careful this time. This one actually had some intelligence to him.

**Prussia was running. Correction: He and his brother were running from the rest of the world, which had for some reason become bloodthirsty and started hunting them.**

"**Come on West, we're gonna make it!" he called back as he saw an awesome cave they could hide in and not be found. They began to climb as fast as they could over the remaining hills, but it was in vain. The other countries had spotted them and open fired.**

**He scrambled up to the top in triumph. "Take that, unawesomes. The awesome me has completely destroyed your plan."**

**He knelt to help his brother when it happened. A lucky shot by someone, maybe Russia maybe America it didn't really matter, pierced Ludwig's heart right as he had taken hold of Gil's hand. Pain lit his eyes for a moment and then he was gone. Snuffed out like a candle flame. As they both fell, in very slow motion, he gave in and begged anyone who was listening to take this nightmare away. He'd give ANYTHING to be rid of this; anything at all.**

Kirkland congratulated himself silently as he took the other Gilbert's pain and sorrow away. He had made the right choice again. He had come when called and was more likely to get called again when he was upset or in despair of a nightmare again. In time he'd learn who he was exactly. For now, he had stopped sobbing like a little child into his pillow and running his snot on the sheet. Two down; and with some extra help when the other two saw their relief, the others would fall without too much trouble. As he ate the last few parts of the dreams that haunted these weaker versions, he sang to himself, "Having scary dreams are we, Just leave it all to me. Now you're sleeping peacefully…" He laughed. They were for now. Later would be a very different story.


	3. Chapter 3

Ch.3 The trouble with Arthur

AN: Thanks to my one reviewer, though someone else has favorited as well.

Anyway, it's about time for this chappie, where you all will finally see what America and Francis dream about. As suggested by the title, our new favorite villain will also make trouble for our dreamers as well.

It was once again a meeting day, and Kiku was actually ready for once. Now that he hadn't had his usual tortured dreams, he'd had extra time to prepare to speak today. He noticed Gilbert with his younger brother, who also looked better than he had for a while. *It's almost as if Arthur had taken his dreams as well* he mused. Then Alfred and Francis came and both Prussia and Japan felt nothing less than heartbreaking pity. Alfred was trying to be normal, but it was painfully obvious that he hadn't slept at all. Francis was better groomed but clearly in the same boat. Once you've been kept up at all hours of the night, you learn to recognize fellow sufferers.

Prussia slipped into the seat next to Japan, wondering what exactly they could do. It would be totally unawesome to just let America and France suffer, but he was slightly selfish about Arthur. He wanted to keep him a secret, even if it was wrong. Finally he resolved that Kiku could decide. If he thought it was a better idea to tell, then they would. After all, Francis was his best friend. And awesome best friends don't let each other suffer for no reason.

"Hey, Kiku," he whispered. "Do ya think we should tell them?"

He seemed to debate with himself for several moments as they pretended to listen to America's incredibly sloppy presentation; clearly he had put it together at the last minute.

"It would be wise. Alfred-san is already slipping by the day; he could barely keep awake last time." Referencing the last World Conference where Alfred had been roused from a near comatose state. The only thing that had saved him from being screamed at by Iggy and West was Canada's notes.

Continuing his thought he finished, "And Francis is hardly any better. He can maintain appearances only so long."

That much was true, Gil noted with real concern. He knew his friend normally spent hours to be perfectly groomed. Now his short hair was in place, but very rumpled and not nearly as precise as normal. Also, he'd been tired enough to miss some small spots in shaving his beard.

This wasn't like him at all. In fact, it kind of scared him. It was one thing to come unglued, but for FRANCIS not to care about looking his best? This had to stop. Immediately.

"When should we do it?" he asked. Timing was key. Too early and they'd never get heard. Too late and it'd take forever to reach them and by then they'd probably be gone anyway.

"Right when Germany calls for break. If we really hurry, we'll be able to catch them before they can disappear and they'll have to stay and listen." Prussia nodded, which was a relief. If anyone could make that happen, it was him.

Obviously, once it was called they managed to drag both countries away from the others and say what they meant to say.

At the end, there was a very heavy silence before Alfred skeptically summarized, "So what you're saying is, there's some sort of Arthur that just…appeared in your dreams and took away your nightmares?

And now you want us to believe that he'll do the same just because we ASK?" The last part was incredulous, scornful. It was like a slap to the face to the other two, who might well have believed Alfred's aliens had taken over their friends bodies.

Francis jumped right on his heels. "Zhis does seem more than a little insane. Haven't you heard zhere's a price for everything? Don't make me laugh. This is about as real as Arthur's fairy friends."

They both turned and walked away, exhausted and irritable from lack of sleep and in dreadful fear of what the coming night would bring.

Meanwhile, the other Arthur merely laughed to himself.* Fantasy, am I?* he thought coldly and deliberately.* we'll see what you believe after tonight loves.*

Night fell over in the North American household. Alfred begrudgingly got into his bed, having to be nagged every step of the way by a very concerned Matthew. He'd noticed his brother coming to meetings with dark circles and was determined not to let him stay up playing video games all night before they had to go tomorrow.

Taking his awesome hero blankets around him, he fought to keep awake with all his awesome might.

His dreams weren't going to haunt him tonight. They weren't going to…

** He found himself in that hateful meadow again. He wanted to scream, to cry, to rage against whatever instinct lead to this nightly self-torture. In this case, it had been years and years ago but the pain was as fresh as when it happened. When Amelia had taken that flight across the Pacific and never come back. He saw his younger self come through with her, hand in hand with that stupid grin on his face. He could forge it for meetings, but it would never be the same without her.**

**In pantomime, he watched her give him his own aviator jacket, the one he wore to this day, as she swore he'd be her flyboy once she got back from her trip.**

**He gave in and swore into this ethereal nightmare world all he had wanted to say. How he could have been so stupid, why he let her go alone, didn't he care about her AT ALL?**

**Then it switched to another still raw wound. His fight for independence, specifically when he and England had been ready to fire at one another. The Hero couldn't take it anymore, he gave in to the feeling and sobbed for all he was worth, howling as a wounded animal might. **

**Then he felt a familiar hand on his back. Looking up through tear blurred vision, it was Arthur and yet not at the same time. This one had pink hair and a truly insane taste in clothes.**

**But the voice was still the same, "Do you want this to go away, love? The torture, the self-hatred…" he trailed off triumphantly, leaving the other dumb. **

"**Why would you..?" **

"**Let's just say I'm in the business of being a hero myself." There was something in those eyes, a sort of insanity that was big enough to be deemed deranged that warned the sane part that this wasn't smart. What choice did he truly have? This sucked. He never said this to anyone, but he truly did hate almost everything about himself. All of that could go away. He could be a real hero.**

"**How do we do this?" was the fatal question that tipped the balance Arthur's way.**

Another fool who traded himself away. Arthur truly loved his job. Making weak people like Alfred and Kiku trade their pain away temporarily in a deal and then give it back exponentially later. He didn't exactly lie to the imbecile either. He was a hero, helping poor unfortunate souls face reality on their terms. How was that a crime?

Oh, he mustn't delay. It was ungentlemanly to keep another one of those poor unfortunates needing his service waiting.

** Francis Bonnefoy actually wept like a little child. He despised this dream with all the passion in his soul. How Angleteen could do such a heinous thing, to such a beautiful and sweet angel… this was the basis of their rivalry. At least it's where it started for him. Joan, as lovely and tender as she had ever been, standing in front of him as they declared her a heretic, a witch. How he had had to watch her burn alive in front of those vile English dogs. They had taken his one true love and burned her to death in his very sight. That lay at the heart of why he refused mortals for his love, even most nations. None could compare to her. None were her equal.**

"'**Ello" Who, who was zhis? Who would DARE intrude in something so private? He was going to kill whoever it was for this insult, the invasion of his very mind.**

"**Get out of here! You are not wanted!"  
"Touchy aren't we poppet?" That infuriating superiority. The smirk barely hidden in those words.**

"**Arthur, you had better hope your spell goes wrong soon. Otherwise, you might not wake at all."**

"**Oh, come now. Is that anyway to treat someone who's trying to help?"**

"**I do not need your help! I never have and I never will. Now LEAVE." **

"**Alright, I suppose I can't force you. I hope you will take me up on my offer soon. Though I suppose you'll scrape yourself together for that conference of yours just fine. It's not like anything else has mattered to you since then but your own appearance anyway."**

**Ordinarily he'd wonder how ever Arthur vanished that fast but he was so furious it didn't matter. He was going to KILL that stuck up pompous idiot tomorrow. **

AN: Wow was that long. Anyway, how was it? Good, bad, suckish. Oh, and if anyone wants to suggest other dreams for our heroes, feel free. Just give me some idea of what could disturb, terrify, depress (etc.) them and I'll get on it. Thanks to everyone whose reading, even if you don't review.


	4. Chapter 4

Ch.4 Now It's Happened Once or Twice, Someone Couldn't Pay the Price…

AN: Hey y'all, it's me again! Thank you to our new favoriters and any new readers who are joining us. Before I start, I wanted to say that. Without you guys this would've been a lonely, suckish one-shot that never saw the light of day. Also, much as I love favorites, could you guys (and girls) PLEASE REVIEW! If you have any ideas for dreams or comments, I'd love to hear them. Seriously, don't be shy. With that out of the way, let's jump back into our story. To review, Francis is the only one who refused. America, Japan, and Prussia are all with 2p Arthur.

It was the next day. A very bright and sunny day that people normally love. One man, however, was not at all happy and seemed to cast out the aura of a brewing storm. The man was done up in a way that few men are. A very observant onlooker would notice that said man had deep black moons under his eyes, as if he'd been in a brawl or not slept for some time.

Francis Bonnefoy didn't particularly care what anyone thought. He just knew he was going to kill that English brute the first chance he had. How dare he!

The nerve of that insufferable pig, to just barge in on someone's dream like that and act like nothing was wrong with it!

Well, he'd teach him what comes to people who attempt things like that…

America ran into the meeting, energized for the first time in who-knows-how-long. The Hero was actually ready to start solving problems. He had reached his seat before he realized something was wrong. People were too quiet. They'd look over towards France's seat, then to England's, whisper, and then shut up. It was more than a little creepy.

Asking everyone, "Dude, what's going on? Has anyone seen Francis or Iggy?"

Uncomfortable, awkward silence. The very kind of silences he hated. They were just so…empty.

Finally, Germany spoke. "To clear up any confusion as to what happened earlier; it appears that Francis had thought England had done magic. He insisted he had not, which just seemed to aggravate France to the point of actually hitting him until his face was covered in blood. I took England home and France seems to have disappeared. They will not be attending this time, but it past time we start."

Needless to say, the Meeting was very subdued and called off very early. Without France or England fighting or presenting, it just didn't seem like a real meeting.

Japan and Prussia stayed in a corner, whispering with concern over this oddity.

America came over just as Gilbert finished something he'd started, "…Nein. I don't like this."

"Dudes, what don't you like?"

They fell silent and looked at him, as if thinking about what they were going to say. *Why does everyone seem to think I'm stupid?* he wondered for the hundredth time. He could handle whatever this is. He was the Hero! He was supposed to be able to help and the best way was to be smart. Finally, Kiku asked, "Has Francis had repeating nightmares? Like every time he goes to sleep he wakes himself screaming?"

That made Alfred pause. He really didn't know. Mattie might but he wouldn't tell him if his "father" had asked him to keep it quiet. Finally he went with the truth.

"I don't know. Probably."

"Ja." Prussia threw in. "He has for a while now. Nearly scared the crap out of Antonio when he found us both screaming at 3 in the morning."

"I wonder why Arthur hasn't come to him yet…" Kiku wondered aloud before Alfred interjected,

"Wait! Was the whatchamacallit you guys were talking about yesterday? That thing that takes your dreams looks like ARTHUR?"

"Kesesese, what did you think we were talking about? Fairies?"

"Dude, Arthur showed up in my dream last night too."

"Ja. He's been to mine too."

"Mine as well. Though I think I should look into this more before we try Francis again."

"Why? The awesome me says we get to him now and look stuff up later. He's already bloodied Arthur's face; I don't want him to get arrested for something." Despite how he tried to play it down, the other two could tell he really did care about the Frenchman.

"I just don't think it would be wise to make any decisions until we know for sure what we are dealing with. After all, if it wants something in return, it would be better to fully understand what that would be before making any promises."

"Yeah… what Japan said. I don't want anyone to get hurt or anything just so I can sleep."

Very reluctantly, Prussia had to agree. That was smart and France wouldn't be able to fight them as hard when they could spell it out like that. Plus, it'd give the guy time to cool down. No need for anyone to get socked in the face when they were only trying to help.

They agreed to let Japan research for the next 2 or 3 days before trying France again, even though that left everyone more than a little uneasy. His mind wasn't the most stable right now and it could be exponentially worse by the time they got to him. The minor comfort for each of them being that when they did confront him, all of them could tell that they had much better sleep with the pseudo-Arthur than without him.

Kiku had hated lying to the other two. There was another reason he wanted to look into this matter further. For several nights now he'd given over his dreams. He had noticed something odd last night and wanted to see if there had been others with the same.

He had been dreaming of something, he didn't know what exactly anymore except that it had been a peaceful dream, and all of a sudden it was gone. He was standing in a warped version of Arthur's kitchen. Warped in the sense that the tools were ones Arthur wouldn't have the faintest idea of how to use and that everything was either pink or purple.

While still puzzling this, the other Arthur-san had come in humming to himself. This took a while but as he was flitting about, Kiku realized Arthur couldn't see or hear him.

"Well that's disappointing." *He doesn't seem all that upset about it. Then again, he doesn't seem the kind to be anything but giddy.* this was vaguely disturbing for the Asian nation since he had seen Arthur-san with a wide range of emotions but none of them like this.

"Bonnefoy is being naughty. No matter, he'll learn soon enough what everyone else already knows. And then I'll have four little collections to make when the full moon rises again."

Even as he was speaking, he was…baking? There was something very wrong if Arthur was allowed to bake.

He'd forgotten that when he'd woken up, but it had come back when he'd heard about Francis. Now that he could think about it all the way, it was deeply disturbing as if some instinct were screaming for him to run before it was too late.

He shrugged it off and sat at his computer to start working on what exactly this was that had appeared to all 3 of them, if not 4.

**^^^^^^^^^^^5 Hours Later^^^^^^^^^^^^**

Kiku fought to stay awake. He had some in late as it was (Korea had tried to claim China again and he'd had to convince Yao it was safe to come into the house again) and staring at the computer in front of him hadn't helped.

He wanted to sleep so badly; he needed it so badly….. *No! Get back to work. The others are counting on you to have something to report.*

That had been Gilbert's compromise. He'd make a report as to what he'd discovered so the others weren't completely in the dark.

Of course, he and Alfred were probably already asleep so how would they know if he just lay down for an hour or so?

Forcing the welcome thought of rest from his mind, he doubled his efforts. After an hour of intense searching, he had run into a wall. At least, he had until he found a site he'd missed before. One that was a search engine for creatures that weren't supposed to be real.

He typed in 'dream eater' and a very small list popped up. Rather to his surprise, he found that this creature had actually been legend in his own country.

As he began to read, however, a chill crept up his spine and he started to shiver. He _had_ to tell the others as soon as possible. He had to tell them-

Kiku woke confused and disoriented. His laptop claimed it was no that couldn't be right, 1:20 in the afternoon. The mirror showed that he had keyboard marks on his face.

*Did I fall asleep at the computer? What was I looking for so late at night?*

Looking through his browsing history was odd. Dream eaters, magic spells… why had he looked this up? Finding the dream eaters page again, he was filled with the same horror.

He had fallen asleep at the computer! He hadn't had time to warn the others that they were making a horrible mistake. He ran from the house, not caring that he hadn't changed his clothes, grabbed any shoes, or eaten since last night. He prayed desperately that he wasn't too late.

AN: And thus ends the chapter on a cliffhanger. Please don't kill me! *waves white flag like Italy* There is reason I left off there. We'll pick up with the other three next chapter. Until then, adieu and watch out of monochrome dream eaters. Guess the reference of the title and you guys get virtual brownies! :D


	5. Chapter 5

Ch.5 Cheeseburger in Paradise

AN: Awesome that I've gotten so many favorites and reviews! Sadly, no one even tried guessing where the last chapter title came from. So I'll tell you this time: Ursula from the Little Mermaid in Poor Unfortunate Souls (or the Jonas brothers, who don't do half-bad in their cover). This one… is your guess. Though I suppose it does kinda give away whose going to feel Artie's wrath first…

Anyway, as promised, I'm going to get back to our dreamers now while Japan is trying desperately to get a flight to somewhere. (Airports are never very convenient if you try for a last minute flight)

So sit back and enjoy the nightmare. Oh, um, I mean the dream. With rainbows and unicorns and cupcakes…. *Artie moves away from behind authoress with a smile* Kind of wishing I'd never summoned him into this story. Pretty soon I'm going to wind up writing things that make no sense and killing off all of these characters...

Alfred threw another dart at his dart board and sighed. This was so unherolike. He hated just waiting around for something to happen. Okay, maybe that wasn't totally it… *No, it's NOT to do with what Iggy said to me before France socked him. Absolutely not that!*

He couldn't help it; he remembered it and still felt like someone had punched him in the gut.

"Hey, fatarse, are you really trying to lose the weight this time?" He had seemed amused he'd even been trying, which didn't exactly help Alfred's mood. 70 days ago or so, he'd fully committed to trying to take a bit more care of himself. Mr. and Mrs. Obama had breathed down his neck about it and quite frankly he was getting sick of all the fat jokes anyway. He figured the best way was, painful as it actually was to put into practice, to cut down his McDonald's habit to twice a week. The added guideline was that he could only get a burger if it was actually lunch or dinner time, he could not sneak in at 3 am, coffee was allowed but not soda or shakes… you get the picture. Healthier eating was the new norm. At least, that was what was hoped. This was why it needled him so much that this was amusing.

"Yeah, dude! I've already lost like, 20 pounds or something." He was actually excited. Maybe this healthy stuff wasn't so bad. That and a good night's sleep were really working for him.

"Off of your inflated ego, maybe." The older nation had snickered. "Nothing else has changed in size."

Which of course had made the rest of the day a train wreck. How could he stick to his guns about the whole healthy thing when it was all the greasy stuff that made him feel better?

Shaking himself out of the memory, he refreshed the screen and found there was still a grand total of nothing. Japan hadn't reported and, he reflected bitterly, probably asleep. Like he would be if he hadn't decided to sit up all night waiting for a stupid report he was sure wasn't going to come.

Checking there was nothing one more time, he gave up and changed into his pajamas. There was no point in staying up for something that wouldn't happen. When he woke up the next morning, Japan's report would be in his Inbox and he wouldn't be too exhausted to finish reading it. A win-win.

Actually… he didn't do that right away. Not because he actually thought England was_ right _or anything, he just… was checking his progress. Yeah, that's it. He wanted to see what his hard work had done.

*Ha! Britain is totally wrong, as usual. I'm a frickin' champion!* Yes, America did this almost every time he was around a mirror. Forcing himself to ignore the craving for a you-know-what and the fact he'd still have to do a lot more work to get to the 6-pack champion level, he finally crawled into bed.

His final thought before falling asleep: Do NOT let this be that (delicious, savory) disgustingly weak dream again.

Elsewhere, Artie was finishing his first cup of tea of the day. As to what was in said tea, let's just say that the reader doesn't want to know what the madman had in it. The authoress of this story had screamed bloody murder for 2 hours and was still too disgusted to speak of it. Anyway, finishing the cup he turned to the business at hand. Namely, he had to get all four of them in hand and two were not. Actually, one still was but just too suspicious for his intended purposes. Bonnefoy, so much like his lover, was stubborn and naughty. Well, a demonstration wasn't too bad really. What could it hurt to cause some poor fool emotional misery and possibly make the deal agreed on steeper? Absolutely nothing! Grinning maniacally to himself, he found the other version of Alfie. Yep, this poor idiot would make the perfect subject.

_Alfred tossed and turned in his bed, occasionally mumbling some negative answer as if he'd been asked a question. Sweat poured off of him as he dreamed a true nightmare; one that could sabotage his entire heroic plan. _

_The dream was rather simple, really. He was in a room that had a banquet table all lain out. On said table were the very things that tempted him while awake. Burgers, fries, shakes, all the junky food that tasted so good but was SO bad for you. The scents alone were maddening to a man who hadn't had them for weeks but there were siren voices in his head that just made it worse. They coyly called him to come and eat; no one was there to see him after all. This was so good; it'd be criminal not to have a bite._

_In the silence of the house, America's groaning was very loud and somewhat high pitched, as if he were being tortured instead of dreaming._

_He made himself get up and run, but like his dreaming of England's house a few nights back, he found himself right back where he started. Each time coming closer and closer to the thing he wanted to avoid._

_Then that weird version of Arthur showed up out of nowhere. Seriously, it was kinda freaky how he could do that. One minute empty space, the next, boom. Instant Arthur appeared._

_Wait… why did he have a serving tray of cupcakes with him? Arthur didn't bake as far as America knew; the dude was hopeless in a kitchen. Even he could cook better than his former caretaker._

"_Dude, why are you here?" Desperately trying to keep focused on this pink haired Arthur instead of what he was near enough to touch, he averted his eyes to the floor as he waited for an answer._

"_Cupcake…"_

"_Dude, how many times do I need to say not to give me we-"he was cut off suddenly as two cupcakes were shoved into his mouth. Almost instantaneously he tried to swallow and puke at the same time. Swallow because it'd been forever since he'd had anything crappy but delicious (that should have tipped him off but being him it didn't register), puke because it had been forever, he didn't want it, and he could almost swear it tasted… bloody. Literally like blood and poison had been mixed in._

_Finally he spat it out, just to find that he'd been laid on the floor and was being restrained by some type of plant thing as he was being force-fed. He screamed from the bottom of his soul even as more was being shoved in._

Artie did enjoy the screaming part. He genuinely loved what he was allowed to do. He sat at the end of the bed and just stayed to watch this moron squirm and wail like a little banshee. That was what he got for being so indulgent in the first place. Of course he had to help the poor dear. He was absolutely **miserable **with his current diet. A return to his normal weight would be the best way to help.

He had baked up his special cupcakes after all. It was a tad extreme to shove them down his throat of course, but he'd known Alfie had wanted them. He was just sharing. His Alfie was a health nut and even he enjoyed Artie's cupcakes, so he had tried to share something good and perfectly safe. He'd only reacted that way because the other had been such a brat about it. Spitting it out as if it were disgusting!

The nerve of some nations these days! Well, he was dealt with and rather pleasingly on his way to getting back all the weight he'd managed to lose so far, if he hadn't gained more. Though judging by the screams as he made his exit, he would have bet every cent he owned that he would find a much heavier America the next time he came around. That would be SO delightful. He really did love spoiling people like Alfred, it was truly a joy.

AN: Sorry for all the torture Alfred! Please don't hate me, since I kinda live in you…

Anyway, there you have it. America's torture is actually mental torture. Who knew? I just have this thing that America's insecure about his weight and England maybe being right about eating crap making him fat. Plus, a lot of stuff aimed at teen girls like me is about weight loss and swapping out foods for each other. Anyway, how was Artie this chapter? I realize he's kinda torn between 2 "loves" this chapter but when you get the normal England drunk, no one knows what's going to happen. At least this Iggy can make up his mind. (Arthur seems to get paired with everyone, so at least this one has it narrowed to 2).

2 songs work for this chapter:

Cheeseburger in Paradise (chapter title and also made me think of this plot)

Supersize Me by Toothpicks (Um, do I need to explain this one?)

I'll see y'all next time at this corner of the Universe. I'm gonna create a poll and I want ALL of you to participate. I have no clue where to go next, so your opinion is going to decide that. Just click my profile name and you'll go to my page. There'll be the poll at the top. Click it and follow it. That's all.


	6. Chapter 6

Ch.6 Bohemian Rhapsody

AN: Well, since the site messed up (including me) none of you guys voted. PLEASE VOTE NEXT TIME! I seriously have no idea where I'm going with this now. Anyway, we now return to our poor victims. I guess the question now is one of how much of the dreams can become reality….

After about 3 frustrating days, Kiku had finally managed to get a plane ticket to America. He was the first one Japan could think of that would listen to him and maybe keep the others from making the same horrible mistake. Airport security still had his plane since he didn't use it often and that had made things difficult. He had come in and tried to demand a flight and probably convinced them he was insane. Hence the delay in getting anywhere. He'd been in interrogation and had to try to explain why it was so desperate a circumstance. It had been more than a little hard for the authorities to believe him, very understandably. If he hadn't been living it himself, he wouldn't have believed himself either.

Now that was on board, he ignored all the pre-flight goings on and stay in his seat, too troubled to even bother with his normal common courtesies when he jarred some of the other passengers. The only he could think was that he was far too late to do any good; surely that monochrome wouldn't have been idle while he was away. It made him almost physically ill when he thought about what could have been done to his comrades while he was vainly trying to convince his own countries security he was not a terrorist.

More to the point, he had to convince some of the most stubborn nations in the world to cut off all ties to the demonic thing that was playing them like puppets. No small undertaking under normal circumstances and these circumstances were anything but normal.

He never thought he'd do this, but as they took off for a destination that had the fate of several important nations in its hands; a monster he himself had created, he bowed his head forward and prayed to God as intensely as he had ever had in his life as tears began to fall down his face.

Once they had landed, he rushed off the plane and snapped up his luggage. He had no time to be polite today. Logically, he could be worrying over nothing. There was no evidence yet that anyone had had anything bizarre happen to them in their dreams. Logic failed to cover up the creeping dread he felt, however, as he found a car and started over to America's house. The feeling only intensified once he actually found the house, with Matthew standing outside of it.

"Canada is Alfred…" he started before he caught the heartbrokenness in those eyes. The numbness that shouldn't be there but was. Here was a man who was far too broken and grown old before his time.

Without even bothering to feel anything at all that someone just recognized him, Matthew just answered softly, "He's inside. Where he's been all weekend. He… he doesn't want anyone to see him. Not like this."

Very alarmed, he followed the seemingly invisible nation inside. There appeared to be no one there, as if the house had already been abandoned and possibly condemned to die.

Raising his voice, which didn't do very much, Matthew called, "Alfred, Kiku's here. He came to see you."

A blood chilling wail of despair came from up the stairs. "NO! H-H-HE CAN'T SEE ME LIKE THIS!"

"What happened to Alfred-san?"

The other shook his head sadly as soft sobs could be heard from upstairs, the tears clearly hysterical of anyone seeing the owner in his condition.

"Don't know. I just got here yesterday from when he called me in a panic. Then when I got here he refused to see anyone. Just said he wanted me here to have someone else in the house."

"That's very mysterious, which isn't like Alfred-san at all."

"I know. Listen, Kiku," placing his hand on his shoulder, for once not squirming away from the touch, Kiku looked up at Alfred's brother, who wasn't big on speaking but clearly cared.

There was a silence, where Matthew seemed to try to find what to say and Kiku waited for him to say it.

"You're…. you're one of the only people he trusts right now. Try and find what's wrong with him. I want to help, but I don't know how. Maybe he trusts you enough to tell."

Then he was gone, leaving the elder nation alone with his thoughts. His heart broke for Mattie, even though he was stuck in his brother and father's shadows he didn't resent them for it. He cared enough not to push Alfred for information and just do as his brother bid. Promising himself that he'd try and deliberately talk to Matthew at the next meeting, he came up the stairs and went to find Alfred. That didn't take long since his door was obviously the one with his flag on it.

Knocking, and the door throwing itself open, didn't exactly help Kiku's nerves.

"America, may I come in?" He was more than a little hesitant to, since almost any sight into the outside world was completely blocked off. The only light was a small lamp over on the chest of drawers.

"No." That no was so pitiful that it didn't matter at all. Even Alfred seemed not to believe it had any power at all.

"Why are you hiding in the dark?"

Not waiting for an answer, he flipped the light switch and, had he been any other nation than his own, would have screamed in terror. Alfred, who had been so healthy and vibrant at the last Meeting, was now 200 and something pounds with blood-shot eyes and an aura of fatigue and defeat.

If he were honest, what truly horrified him was the last one. The others at least had an explanation. The complete absence of his heroic personality was downright terrifying. If Alfred couldn't be the Hero, then what horrible thing had to happen to make that so?

Sniffling, he rather bluntly told him, "Well, I guess Iggy's right. I suck at dieting."

"What-Alfred, what happened to you?"

"That weird version of Arthur happened, okay? Now go away and leave me to my misery."

This was serious. Cursing himself and the airlines, he carefully sat down. Alfred wouldn't notice of course since he had turned his back to his only visitor.

"America, that's what I had been coming to tell you 3 days ago. The airport detained me for that long, so I couldn't say it. I know now what we made a deal with."

Alfred said nothing, though Kiku couldn't blame him. That was a weak excuse and they both knew it. Legitimate but weak. He began to explain, in halting words, all he had learned still marveling how quickly this parasite worked. This was even worse than he thought!

"…this is why I am here now Alfred. What happened to you just confirmed what I feared. We made a horrible mistake and we have to correct it soon. Otherwise, there could be horrible consequences."

"Like THIS isn't horrible?" He was hysterical, which was not very conductive to the business at hand.

"Alfred, this thing could do much worse things to you and the others than anything it has. You have to help me get the others. Gilbert won't listen to me if I try and tell him this alone. Francis would ignore me or kill me. I need your help." Much as he was begging for help, he tried to be stern. This was too serious a matter for this foolishness to derail it.

Alfred stopped feeling so sorry for himself at Kiku's strong tone. He had to admit that what he said was true. Much as it sucked that he couldn't get on some airline and go with, Gil really didn't listen to anyone but himself, Francis, or his younger brother. He had to help somehow.

* Oh, isn't that rich? The fat man wants to help. What about helping you first? Look at you; you're DISGUSTING! A blob of fat hiding in the dark. Yet YOU want to help someone ELSE?*

That stung a lot actually; but he couldn't let Japan and them down. Sure, they'd never be the best of friends after Pearl Harbor and all, but he couldn't just let everyone else get hurt.

A real hero doesn't let other people hurt themselves when they can help it… but was he even a real hero now? He couldn't even let people see him; he felt too disgusting and horrifying for that.

Meanwhile, our other Arthur Kirkland looked in a very dangerous mood. One of those naughty little boys was trying to stage a rebellion. After all the help he'd given them!

Well, he wouldn't find any help from America. That pig was too insecure and self-absorbed to do much of anything but wallow in misery. As if he had done something bad! All he had done was help dear Alfie come back to his happy place. Was a little appreciation so much to ask for?

Honestly, they had made the deals themselves! It wasn't like he'd tricked them into possibly giving up their souls and all the delicious memories that came with them. Even if he did, they'd agree in a heartbeat.

Yes, he was going to be keeping a MUCH closer eye on the Japanese. He looked so innocent but he was turning out to be craftier than he'd planned for. Everyone has a weak spot; if he kept watching, he'd see it. And then he'd go in for the kill.

Jumping forward to Paris and then Berlin

Francis was beyond words when he came home and found blood all over his favorite coat. It was as if he had gone off and tried to kill someone…

Then he remembered the horrible dreams he'd had and knew whose blood it was. Angleteen's from where he had paid him back for invading his dreams with his horrid magic. So why did he feel so restless and not at all satisfied with what he had done?

Gilbert was in a very odd state and it did not escape Ludwig's notice. His brother hadn't said he was awesome for almost 3 days. That was more than enough to make the German worry, but every time he went out somewhere and then came back he found different, disturbing sides of his brother.

For instance, he had come back from the shop after getting more wursts and found his brother wearing a pink, frilly dress and dancing (if you could call that disturbing thing dancing) with the mop.

Another time, he had found a very perverted version that had tried to… well; he didn't want to dwell on that one too long. Bottom line, he was now afraid to enter his own house. He didn't tell that to anyone else of course but he was. Once he walked in, he had to deal with whatever Gilbert presented himself, which was a very scary thought indeed.

Steadying his nerve as he placed the key in the lock, Ludwig pushed his door opened and went in.

"Bruder, I am-"he was cut off from the rest of his cautious greeting by a very loudly amplified out of tuned electric guitar. Bracing for him to get attacked, he found the basement and blinked in shock.

His older brother had somehow found a tie-dye shirt and love beads and was currently attempting to rock out to what most people would call hippie music, almost preaching of peace and love.

Our poor German had had more than he could take at that point and passed out. That his older brother, who had loved war almost as long as he could remember would now be so deeply into this type of behavior had pushed his high blood pressure into a dizzying drop.

All Gil's deranged mind manage to say to this was, "Dude, you've gotta relax. Don't let 'The Man' trick you into being part of his machine." Then he went on playing Lucy in the Sky with Diamonds.

AN: How was that chapter for ya? If Gil seems off, that is intentional. You'll see why soon enough. I have to prepare for exams this week, so don't expect anything till at least Saturday.

Catch you on the flip side people.


	7. Chapter 7

Dream Eating Monochrome ch.7

AN: Hey guys! Sorry for the delay. I literally had no inspiration until I listened to the song that inspired this again. (Dream Eating Monochrome Baku, the English dub because I don't know Japanese, sadly enough). Anyway, I'll try and update faster, but no promises. My muse likes to toy with me by acting as if it's there but then vanishing.

_France was back there again. On the battlefield during one of the worst times in his history. The French Revolution, the thing that saved and killed him all in one stroke. Once his King had been dethroned, his new bosses were complete maniacs. The war against Austria and Prussia was going sour and the rest of Europe was stealing the rest of what he had. He wasn't even sure in this moment, with gunfire all around and the howls of the dying if he even wanted to be saved… Maybe Angleteen was right, that he WAS a coward that just ran away from everything. Why shouldn't he just end it all and let himself die here? Things truly could not get worse…._

France sat up in his bed, covered in sweat and a blanketing depression. Not only had he gone and injured another nation badly enough he needed medical help, but what he had assumed then had not gotten less truthful with time. He debated the question yet again. Yes, it was hard for nations to die, but not impossible. If he truly wanted to die, he eventually would. And now, just as then, he almost wished he would. Just to make all the pain and suffering go away…

Getting up, he decided that he could prep for the Meeting, since he was up at 3 AM anyway.

One thing he didn't notice was that everything around him was black, white, or (a few) gray.

And sadly, by the time he did, it was far too late.

Artie was entirely too cheerful. That was common knowledge to Francis Bonnefoy, but today he seemed even more so. That was both warning and making him wonder why he even bothered getting out of bed. Living with Artie was a nightmare he couldn't wake from. One that made him want to shoot himself in the head every morning. "What are you doing?" he asked sourly as he finished a drag. The only good thing about the lunatic was that cigarettes were cheap. That's about the only positive.

"FRANNY! YOU'RE AWAKE!" He winced. He** hated **being called Frannie. That wasn't his name. Much less did he like it when it was followed by a bone crushing hug. Again, the man knew he hated being touched but did it anyway. He was starting to understand why Gil was so suicidal. He couldn't leave the maniac as he had nowhere else to go, but he couldn't stay like this either. If only he could exist in the same place and time as his other self, maybe….

"Oh, dear. You must be starving. Here, have a cupcake."

That was about the last thing he wanted. He'd learned like Gil that taking anything from these people was a game of Russian roulette. Maybe it's one of the nasty poisons he was so fond of; maybe it was the limbs and guts of one of his "toys"; maybe nothing at all. You just never knew.

Still, he knew as well as anyone what would happen if he didn't. Namely, he would be tortured or worse, have to play hide-and-seek with him. He shivered, remembering the last time that had happened.

He forced the cupcake down, trying not to vomit when he hit the center. Nuclear waste again. That stuff was about the nastiest in existence. He was good, but not good enough to cover the gagging and screaming as he felt his organs begin failing. As he was lifted onto his own couch, he saw something in one of Artie's things out of the corner of his eye. The image of a man, much like himself, in a blank and empty monochrome world. His face contorted in horror and as he watched, the blue eyes of his other were drained of all the color in them. All the memories were being taken from him, whether he wanted to keep them or not. Soon, he was nothing but a flat kind of monochrome himself. A screaming monochrome.

And as the other he despised fussed over him, he couldn't suppress the shiver that ran down his spine. That someone could be cold enough to lock a man away like that in a black and white world while he went mad and screamed with tears flowing down his face… he swore as he shivered that he would help whatever poor soul got trapped in Artie's deal. No matter what it cost him and Gilbert.

With America's help, Kiku had managed to get use of Airforce One to get over to Germany. He knew that this was going to be hard without Alfred physically there, but he also knew it would have to be done. If the worst-case scenario happened, he could get Alfred over the video camera on his computer to help him. Though he had to be careful. Ludwig-san had seemed almost afraid when he had told him he was coming to speak with Gilbert-chan. The one message he had gotten from him soon after was not all that encouraging either. It was almost as if an escaped insane man had used Prussia's phone because the message was almost incoherent and the parts he did understand made no sense.

Landing safely and having his alibi check out with the customs agents, he headed over just to find things amiss from the start. For one, Ludwig was down the street and refused to go back to the house. Then when he got there, the door was wide open and things thrown all over the lawn.

Gripping his katana nervously, he finally made himself go in while watching for broken glass. This whole house seemed wrong. An atmosphere that shouldn't have been there was. Almost a rot and decay of what had once been a sane house in tatters.

It was actually a good thing that he had felt so uncomfortable and off balance. If he hadn't, he never would have felt Gilbert-chan behind him and blocked a sword cut to his neck. As it was, his arm stung severely and he was knocked over on the floor. Quickly rolling to a crouch, he looked up.

There was Gilbert in full military dress from when he was a nation, not to mention the top military power of the world. His form was perfect, which was odd enough for him but once he reached his face terror started. He didn't have missing features; the ones he had were fine. There was a blankness he had never known though, as if someone had sucked out his soul and forgotten the body was there. His eyes were the horror. Instead of the red he had come to know, the vacant eyes that met his were entirely black with a pinprick of white for a pupil.

**Gilbert's not there anymore, **he realized slowly as he raised his weapon, **and I'm completely alone with him. **

AN: Sorry for the cliffy! I just like to make sure my readers stay with me. Thank you to all you patient people who were here from the beginning as well as the new ones. You all are amazing. Now maybe things will start to heat up for our heroes… ;)


	8. Chapter 8

Dream Eating Monochrome ch.8 Viva La Vida

AN: Sorry if this chapter seems kind of random; my work in school this year is kinda ridiculous. Anyway, I see people actually voted. So, whether you love or hate this chapter you can praise/blame your fellow reviewers.

That's all for now and on to the show:

Okay, leaving everyone else in freeze frame for a minute, we come back to our somewhat neglected dreamer: Francis Bonnefoy. Yes, flip back in your memory a few chapters to the 2p version of him and Arthur. Yep, that's him. The screaming monochrome that made his other pity him so from his tears. Well, we're backing up a bit on that. Here's how the tragedy goes:

Francis had been getting ready for bed, still wondering how getting revenge on the one who had so invaded his painful memory felt so… wrong. As if he had attacked a lamb instead of a wolf. Seeming to sense his mood, none of his bosses had tried to chastise him for what he had done. Not a whisper or a word. After a while, he began to talk to himself, which wasn't normal, but he felt a desperate need to kill the thick, heavy silence that hang around his home.

Rooms that he had run through since he himself was a child now seemed ominous and imposing, every sound just about made him jump out of his skin. He was so on edge he didn't even pause by the window as he normally did. If he had, he'd have a lovely **full **moon beaming outward.

^^^^^^^^^^^^^Some undefined time later^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^

Out in the real world, the blond man was sleeping soundly in his bed without a care in the world. However, by now, all of you should know everything isn't quite what it appears to be.

In his horrible nightmare, he was reduced to almost the same level as a child's toy. He now knew what it felt like to be the doll in a young girl's grasp as she ran along; and it wasn't very fun. They were taking strange ways through routes that shouldn't have been possible. At points he'd almost have seemed to be running toward whatever it was willingly on his own, yet that would only be partially correct. He was running toward a relief just out of reach but not entirely of his own will.

There was the other that was dragging him to take into account as well. With some struggle, he managed to lift himself up far enough as he could considering he was bound to two puppet strings by his hands and his feet tied together. They were within some kind of forest though it was none he knew of. It seemed like a forest for forgotten nightmares or one of those illusionary mazes with the hidden mirrors everywhere.

It was one such mirror that the one who'd taken him captive was working with. There was ice that ran through his veins and cold fingers making goose bumps rise. He'd made a horrible mistake. And now there was no way to correct it before he was going to die…

^^^^^^^^^^^Before injuring Arthur enough he had to get checked into a hospital^^^^^^^^^

"ANGLETERRE!"

"Oh, it's you, frog." That irritating indifference! As if he had not just been spying on his most private heart!

He took him by the hair, not caring when his childhood friend and now frienemy yelped in pain and tried to wriggle out of his grip.

"PUT ME DOWN, YOU BLOODY FROG!"

"That's what sneaking little SPIES get, eyebrow monster."

"What the h_ are you talking about now? I don't care what you do any more, twat."

Francis had no answer and didn't want to waste his breath, so he just yanked very hard on him and then suddenly threw him against a wall.

"OWWWW! I'm not a puppet you bloody idiot." As he tried not to stagger back towards his once friend, he didn't know what had gotten into Francis but this was ridiculous. They weren't 3 anymore and so be able to talk like gentlemen instead of this. Of the two, Arthur had always been the puppet Francis played with. It had been that way since they'd met all those years ago.

"Then maybe you should stop using magic to invade others privacy!"

"Which I have told you over and over again I haven't done! I don't know what's come over you, but I'm not your puppet or plaything anymore. I'm sorry, old chap, but I've grown up. And outgrown you."

He turned to walk away, which left his back completely unprotected and vulnerable for that exact moment when the Frenchman had snapped.

^^^^^^^^^^^Back to forest thing^^^^^^^^^^^^^^

"Aw, there we go cupcake. Now, for the fun part." This…this horrible THING that had taken on the image of his little eyebrows monster, giggled maniacally. Somehow, Francis knew this wouldn't be fun. Kind of the way children know that when their parents say it won't hurt it usually does.

He was pulled up, since he had become around half his normal size; a very literal puppet indeed. Just one little puppet on a lonely string and learning why no one really wants to be king; he fell through the air as he was let go of, much the same way he had smashed Arthur against the wall was how he met the floor in…his own house?

No, not his own house. His walls at home were bright and cheerful in color and atmosphere, plenty of windows open to sunshine or moonlight. This was a cold place with no color at all. Actually, not quite true. There was black, and white, and black again, then white again, gray here or there, black yet again… you get the idea. The air in the world itself seemed cold and depressed, desolate and without hope. He'd barely been there more than a few minutes and he felt ready to go mad.

"Oh, don't worry, sweet little foolish cupcake," came the voice he was finally finding was more evil than sweet, "pretty soon all of your little friends will be here too. Oh, dear, there is one more thing isn't there?"

He looked down, as he felt compelled to do and saw with horror his clothes and hair had already taken on the monochrome tones of this strange, cold world. Only his eyes, in the mirror-like black of the floor had any coloring at all.

Tongue clicking followed. "Afraid I can't allow that, old chap," in a cruel mockery of Britain's voice, "not sporting, you understand. And those eyes of yours are just too pretty to leave there."

He was frozen as his eyes slowly lost their blue. Finally, he had to blink and found within the few seconds that took that his eyes were white and black now. He started to sob, for all that had happened and for what was about to happen to him.

Artie was so delighted. A full moon had finally happened and he had closed the deal with one of his special cupcakes. Of course his body was now lying comatose somewhere but that wasn't important. And he actually had something suitably special for Franny's other, something fitting from a rather delightful little song Kuro Honda had taught him, oh what was the name again?, Alice something or other.

Alice Human Sacrifice! That was it.

Sweet little Francis was always vain; why not play off of that? After all, the 3rd Alice was fairly vain about her voice and her looks and it lead to the most delightful despair. But with the mastery Artie had achieved, nothing actually had to be taken at all. He just had to make him _believe _his looks were gone and his voice hideous.

^^^^^^^^^^POV switch, gotta love the awkward page breaking^^^^^^^^^

Francis found himself going from where the floor showed him such things to that same forest again. At first, hope surged in his heart. He felt king of all he surveyed, and he hadn't done anything wrong. So he was going to be let go.

Taking steps toward the exit that would (even warped) lead back to his reality. Then he saw something out of the corner of his eye. Mon Dieu! Was THAT hideousness his face? There were all sorts of scars marring his normally handsome face. Now, in reality, he was much the same as he had been but Artie was indeed clever. Without anyone else around him, he believed what he saw more than what he should have known in his head.

Paralyzed by fear, this proved too much for Francis and he ran off into the woods away from the direction that would have taken him home.

Artie laughed a very dark, deep laugh. He never would leave, because all he could see was a decaying face and body with a voice as raspy as a living corpse. Every nightmare lurking in man's heart personified. Since his dull as dishwater other wouldn't be along for a while, Francis would so deep in delusion by the time he did get there that he never would. In fact, he'd manage to KILL his other through his own paranoia that **Arthur** was the one causing him to die and not be beautiful. Yes, he was going to have to do this more. In fact, he had a good idea of who could be the Alice getting trapped in the forest of hate and killing. A certain red-eyed Prussian might do quite nicely if he were to be convinced the right way. He already had the Alice of Hearts because Arthur could never leave his nose out of others business and Matthew would do anything for Alfred. Even come into a nightmare himself.

Alfred….what WAS he going to do with Alfred? Oh, he could be the man of Diamond. He was always claiming to be a Hero and making distorted claims. Why not let him go mad here and make a twisted blue world? Then he could show up to Matthew and Arthur and make a (false) deal of a fair play. They find the others and get them to forsake whatever it is, they will them back. If not, he gets to keep them.

Forever.

AN: Sorry again for the cliff hanger! I needed that as a spring board for myself next time I write a chapter. Anyway, I just felt like I was running around the same repetitive circle with these guys and so added Alice Human Sacrifice to make something interesting happen and get other people involved. I plan on making Germany, Canada, and Japan the ultimate heroes of the story, though if someone really feels someone else is more fitting tell me.

Again, sorry for randomness but I didn't want to not do anything after people actually voted on my poll. See, YOU do influence me to update this when I can. So keep it coming.


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